


A Spirit Filled With Longing

by TheLodgersEnthusiast (Morgan_Molliniere)



Category: Frankenstein - Mary Shelley, The Glass Scientists (Webcomic), The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde - Robert Louis Stevenson, 쓸쓸하고 찬란하神 - 도깨비 | Goblin (TV)
Genre: Grim Reapers, Immortality, It'll make sense soon, Multi, Spirits, also scenes that take a lot of inspiration from the Goblin tv drama, and an altered storyline to the strange case, and frankenstein
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:48:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25147222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgan_Molliniere/pseuds/TheLodgersEnthusiast
Summary: A certain Henry Jekyll has been looking for someone to help him lift the curse of immortality placed upon him. But with his alter ego, his niece, a Grim Reaper who hates him, and a man who seems to be connected to him one way or another, what could go wrong?
Relationships: Dr. Frankenstein (The Glass Scientists)/Original Character(s), Dr. Henry Jekyll/Dr. Robert Lanyon, Edward Hyde/Dr. Robert Lanyon
Comments: 9
Kudos: 28





	1. A Trickster God and a Goblin

**Author's Note:**

> First things first: this just takes place in the Goblin universe, with a few alterations. It doesn't copy the story as much as The Murder Game did with Danganronpa Trigger Happy Havoc.
> 
> Second, I don't expect to finish this, so don't get your hopes up. But enjoy the story anyway!

_**1988** _

“ _The 80s is a ridiculous time to be alive.”_

“You don't have to be so rude about it.”

“ _Yeah, but still. I love crazy fashion as much as the next guy, but don't you think so much shit is going on right now?”_

“I know, I look at the newspapers.”

Henry Jekyll didn't know why his alter ego, Edward Hyde, was being chatty about the 80's all of a sudden. He figured there was only one reason.

“Are you bored?”

“ _Come on. Why do you think I'm bored?”_

“We've been like this a long time; I know when you're bored.”

“ _Hmph. So what if I am? Is your boring brain thinking of anything that we can do?”_

“My brain isn't boring, and even if it was, we share–”

Jekyll didn't get to continue that thought, however. Next to him, a door at the side of the building opened, and out came a man. He didn't look all that unremarkable, with his East Asian features and long coat. However, his and Jekyll's eyes met. And Jekyll was familiar enough with this man to know who he was.

“Kim Shin,” he greeted, putting his hands together. “I didn't believe you would come all the way to London today.”

“Henry Jekyll,” Shin replied in kind. He glanced at the door, and then back at him. “I'm here on important business.”

“What important business could a being such as yourself have here?”

“I could say the same for you.”

Jekyll nodded, and put his hands in his pockets. “It's been a while. Do you have time to catch up?”

Shin waved a hand. “I really have to go.”

“Come on. People who have been in this world as long as we have should spend some time together every once in a while.”

He huffed. “Are you lonely?”

“Are you?”

A smirk appeared on his face. “If you're so insistent.”

* * *

The two of them found themselves sitting in a coffee house, sitting in silence for quite a while.

“Do you ever leave London?”

Jekyll drank from his cup of tea, and then put it down. “Sometimes.”

“Then why do I always meet you here? It's as if you have nowhere else to go.”

“You're the one who keeps opening doors and going places. I, however, have no desire to stay away from home for much too long.”

“You're just like me. Surely you've already figured out how to open doors to other places.”

Jekyll eyed Shin. “I have. I don't wish to. And besides, being a vagabond does not suit me.”

“Even if you're trying to look for someone to break your curse?” Shin asked.

“It's sad, though, isn't it?” Jekyll leaned forward. “Someone is going to see that sword in your chest, and pull it out, and you'll die.”

Shin crossed his arms, and leaned back. “Well, I've been in this world a long time. Don't you wish for someone to see the other one, and give you...” He waved a hand. “...true love's kiss, or something?"

Jekyll laughed. “That's only in children's fairy tales.”

“But I guess it's nice, to have a happy ending.” Shin mused.

He nodded solemnly.

“It is.”

They both sat in silence for another couple of seconds.

“...I'm glad I met you today, though, not the other one,” Shin said. “The last time we met, it was hell.”

“ _Hey, you started it,”_ Hyde said.

Shin frowned. “That thing _you_ did to me? It was unforgivable.”

“Caused a ruckus that could be heard by the gods themselves,” Jekyll agreed.

“ _Whose side are you on?”_

Shin reached forward and finished the last of his coffee, before getting up. “Ah, it's getting late,” he said. “I must attend to my business here.”

“Keep up the impression that you're actually a normal person?” Jekyll asked.

He shrugged, smiling a little. “Maybe.” He waved at Jekyll. “Take care, trickster god.”

“You too, goblin."


	2. Another Day Another Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Grim Reaper goes to do her job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing here two more characters that are going to be important to the plot one way or another!

_**1988** _

While Henry Jekyll and Kim Shin were having their relatively peaceful talk in a coffeeshop, there was death elsewhere.

And because there was death, the Grim Reaper who had to collect this lost soul had to come collect it.

This particular Grim Reaper – for there were many of her kind, though let us concentrate on this one for now – was looking down at the black envelope in her hand. She then opened it, and looked the card inside over. It was a card with someone's name on it, alongside their cause, time, and place of death.

It wasn't the first time she had looked at it. It wasn't the first time she had looked at a death card, in fact. But she sighed heavily all the same. Then she looked up at the house in front of her – the place of death. It was a stately home, with a sturdy gate in front of it. She tipped her black hat over her head, and then phased through the gate.

The cause of death was a nasty fall down the stairs. A misplaced rug. A broken neck. The Grim Reaper almost felt sorry for her. But a job was a job. No emotions could get in the way. She made her way through the door, and looked inside.

Several of the staff were gathered around the body, one of them calling emergency services. But the Grim Reaper knew that wouldn't help. She looked past them, at a woman standing near the stairs, staring at the scene before her in shock. And for good reason – she seemed to be an exact double of the corpse laying sprawled out at the bottom of the stairs.

It was the spirit, taken away from the body.

The Grim Reaper approached her, and adjusted her glasses. The woman looked at her with frightened eyes.

“Name: Ingrid Lanyon,” the Grim Reaper began reciting. “Time of death: 3:07 pm. Cause of death: A broken neck from a fall.” She looked the woman in the eyes. “That is you, right?”

The woman could do little else but nod. The Grim Reaper was about to take a step closer, when she heard someone come closer to them – small footsteps.

They both looked down, and saw a young boy looking up at the two of them. He was holding a book, and concern was on his face.

“Mum,” he said, “who is this?”

The woman covered her mouth. “Oh, Robert.”

The Grim Reaper was a little shocked. This boy could see her? Even when she had worn her disguise to protect her from the eyes of the living?

The staff were beginning to clear away from the body, but the boy remained in place. His eyes fell on the body at the foot of the stairs, and he gasped.

“M-Mum?” he asked, taking a step back and looking at the woman. “You...?”

She looked sorrowful, but nodded. Then she crouched down to look him in the eye. “Listen, Robert,” she said. “I need you to listen to me. I need you to be a good boy from now on, alright?”

He began to cry.

“Promise me that, alright?”

But he nodded, and held his book closer to himself. “I will, Mum,” he said.

“I was always afraid for you,” she told him. “That's why I want you to make good decisions, alright? I want you to be happy.”

“I will, I will,” he sobbed.

She reached forward, and tried to stroke his hair, but her hand passed through him. He only began to cry some more, and tears rolled down the woman's cheeks as well.

“I'm sorry,” she said. “I wanted to be with you longer.”

He only nodded. “I know, Mum, I know.”

They cried in front of each other for a little while, before the woman wiped some of her tears away, and then looked at the Grim Reaper.

“You've come to take me away...haven't you?” she said.

The Grim Reaper nodded. “Are you ready?”

She looked at her son. He sniffled, but raised a hand in farewell. “Make sure to go to heaven,” he said.

The woman tried to smile, and then stood up. “...Alright,” she said. “Let's go.”

The Grim Reaper nodded, and took her away.

* * *

The two of them arrived at the Grim Reaper's workplace.

Now the woman was sitting at a sofa in the middle of a small room, which looked more like a living room-turned-lab, with chemistry equipment scattered on the coffee table. The Grim Reaper was fussing over this equipment as she waited, before she decided to speak up.

“Will my son be alright?” she asked.

“How am I to know?” the Grim Reaper simply asked, not taking her eyes off of her work.

“He can see spirits. I'm worried one of them may try to harm him...”

“I'm sure it won't happen if he isn't stupid.” She glanced up at the woman for a moment. “Your boy isn't stupid, is he?”

“No – he's a bright boy,” she said. “I just wish I was around to watch him grow up...”

“There's no fighting the gods,” the Grim Reaper told her. “What the gods will, they will have.”

The woman silently nodded. Something dripped from a tube into a small cup, and once the cup was filled, the Grim Reaper looked the cup over, before picking it up, and bringing it to the woman.

“Drink this,” she instructed, “and forget your memories of this life before moving on to the next.”

The woman hesitated. She looked back up at the Grim Reaper.

“What will happen if I don't drink it?” she asked.

“You'll regret it.” The Grim Reaper folded her arms. “Of course, if you want to enter the next life carrying the weight of your regrets from this life, that's up to you.”

The woman looked back down at her cup again. She was making a decision, and the Grim Reaper could already tell what it was going to be.

* * *

Another day, another soul.

The Grim Reaper put on her hat, and left her workplace, walking through the streets of London as she went. She dodged quite a few people as she walked, keeping her gloved hands in her pockets.

She paused, and then looked up at the roof of the building next to her.

A man was crouching on the ledge, wearing a long black coat. His hair was blonde and unruly, and he was drinking something. Then he turned his eyes down at her, and they stared at each other.

“Pleasant day, trickster god,” she thought, her inner voice dripping with venom.

“Pleasant day, reaper,” he thought, his inner voice insincere. “What an ugly hat.”

She frowned, and then went on her way.


	3. You Have A Way With Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jekyll goes to see his niece.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still going strong with this one...until I reach like, the thirteenth chapter or something. Then I'll have to decide whether I want to continue this or not.

_**1885** _

Dr. Henry Jekyll had to admit, it was a beautiful day. The city was bustling, people were going about their daily business. But he couldn't appreciate it right now, for he himself was walking about the streets, on his way to a certain destination.

Once he reached it, he climbed up the steps, and reached out for the knocker, before knocking twice. He smoothed over his jacket lapels as footsteps came towards the door, and the door swung open to reveal the butler.

“Dr. Jekyll,” he said, nodding politely at him. “What a lovely surprise. Are you here to see your cousin?”

“Here to see my niece,” Jekyll corrected, putting his hands together. “Is she here right now?”

“Of course, sir,” the butler said. He opened the door wider, and Jekyll thanked him, before letting himself in.

As the butler closed the door behind him, Jekyll looked around at the house. He couldn't believe that he had seen his niece grow up in these halls, and now he would have to send her off...now that she was engaged to be married.

More footsteps came into the foyer, and Jekyll removed his hat as he turned to look at the young woman coming his way.

“ _Speak of the devil._ ”

“Uncle Henry!” the young woman said. “How nice of you to come by.”

“Of course I would come by,” he said. “I wouldn't miss a chance to meet my lovely niece.”

“You have such a way with words,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Your wrinkles are getting more and more prominent every day.”

“ _She's right, you know.”_

“You have a way with words too,” Jekyll said, “my dearest Elizabeth.”

* * *

**1997**

Now Jekyll was returning once again to London after a short trip overseas, on his way to meet a new niece of his. He had been told she and her father would be waiting for him at the airport, with all his things set up and a new place to live. Hyde seemed pretty excited to live at the penthouse of an flat complex. Not that Jekyll hadn't offered to not look suspicious and just get a normal flat from the building, but his niece's father wouldn't let him have any less.

The plane jolted, having touched down on the runway. Jekyll gripped the armrest, a little tense with anticipation. Slowly, the plane came to a stop, and people began to stand up from their seats and reach for their belongings.

“ _You'd think that because there's a god on board, things would have gone a little more unusually,”_ Hyde said.

“It's never that simple,” Jekyll said quietly in response.

“ _But it is fun.”_

“Sure, I can get behind harmless fun. But you remember the last time we played a prank on an airplane?”

“ _...Heh, right.”_

Jekyll reached up, opened the overhead compartment, and grabbed his bag from the compartment. As he did so, he noticed that something was moving below him, and he looked to see a shorter woman struggling to reach her bag overhead.

“Here,” he said, reaching back up and grabbing the bag she was trying to grab.

“Thank you,” she said, taking the bag from him.

“Before you leave the airport,” he said, looking into her eyes, “don't fall to the temptation of buying a box of candy. One of your children might choke on a poorly-chewed piece.”

“...Huh?” she asked.

He simply winked at her, and then turned to leave before she could follow.

He departed from the plane, and entered the airport, going about the usual formalities, before arriving at baggage claim where he grabbed his other luggage, and then looked up at the people who were waiting at the arrivals.

“ _See them?”_

“No, I don't...” Jekyll scanned the area, before noticing a certain sign, reading “Mr. Levi Pidgley”, being held up by a man whose other hand was held by a little girl.

“Oh! There we are,” Jekyll said, pulling his luggage behind him as he walked towards that old man. When the man saw him, he beamed brighter than ever.

“There you are, sir!” he said, lowering the sign a little. “I was beginning to get worried the people here held you up.”

“Nothing like that.” Jekyll waved a hand. “In fact, it went smoother than ever.”

“Is this my uncle?” the little girl asked, looking up at him. “Uncle Levi?”

“Yes,” the man said. “Sir, this is my daughter Rachel. Isn't she adorable?”

“She is indeed,” Jekyll said, letting go of his luggage and bending down to look her in the eye. “Rachel, huh? That's a pretty name.”

“Why is your nose so big?” she asked, pointing at his face almost immediately.

The man looked appalled. “Rachel!” he hissed.

Jekyll only laughed. “Let's just say my parents and their parents had big noses, too,” he said.

“That's weird, Uncle Levi,” Rachel said.

The man blushed. But Jekyll seemed, in fact, amused. “It  _ is  _ weird. But do you know what's weirder? Not only am I your uncle, but I'm going to be your cousin, your nephew, and then your great-nephew.”

“What does that mean?” she asked. “And why does my dad keep calling you sir?”

“Rachel!” her father said. Then he shook her head. “I apologize, sir. She's a chatty child.”

“She does indeed have a way with words,” Jekyll said. “But there's no need to apologize. Your lineage has never disappointed me.”

Rachel stared up at him as he straightened up, and then stretched. “Shall we go?” he asked. “I'm eager to rest.”

“Certainly, sir,” her father said, nodding. He took Jekyll's luggage, and began to bring it with them, while Jekyll walked forward.

“ _I can tell she's gonna be a lot of fun to watch grow up, if she's this cheeky even now,”_ Hyde said.

“Just say you like her,” Jekyll said quietly. “I mean, it's alright. I like her.”

“ _You like everyone in the Pidgley family.”_

“Come on, I have a good reason to.”

And he did. The Pidgley family never disappointed him, after all.


	4. The Poor Boy's Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lanyon meets a poor boy, and learns something from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it looks like I'm gonna update this fanfic every other day until the chapters run out. Oh well.

_**1989** _

Robert Lanyon was having a rotten day.

In addition to everyone avoiding him in the private school he went to (not that this wasn't normal), there was a surprise test, and he hadn't done so well. Not to mention, his father didn't show up to receive his report card from his teacher; and when he did go home and show it to his father, he received only the choicest of insults from his father about how he was “lazy” and “should try harder”.

All in all, pretty lousy.

He went outside his house, then outside the gates, and sat on the sidewalk, sighing to himself. He stared down at his report card. He didn't think the grades were even that bad. His father just seemed hard to please.

Robert then lowered his report card, and stared out onto the street. The occasional car passed by their house, alongside the even rarer pedestrian. He sat for a little while with his head in his hands, looking for something.

What was he looking for?

He was about to give up and go back inside when he heard footsteps coming beside him, and he looked up to see a younger boy in ratty clothes and a cap walking in his direction. Robert stood up, and the boy looked at him.

“Do you have anything you can give me?” the boy asked, stretching out his hand. “Food, money...?”

Robert hesitated. But then he realized that he shouldn't. His late mother had always told him to give to anyone who needed help, no matter how much his father said that those in need should work for what they need rather than beg. And he loved his mother more. So he found it in himself to nod, and pulled out the wallet in his back pocket. He counted out a sum he was comfortable giving, and then gave it to the boy in front of him.

“Here,” he said. “Buy something nice for yourself.”

The boy looked down at the money, and smiled the brightest smile at him. “Thank you,” the boy said.

“Your welcome,” Robert said.

The boy began to walk past him, counting the money. But he stopped again, and looked at Robert.

“You know,” he said, “It's a habit to wish that the gods would bless someone you meet who helps you. But I believe the gods are much more fickle than that.”

Robert stared at him blankly. “Huh? Do...do you mean God?”

The boy shook his head. “The gods. They bless who they bless, and they curse who they curse. It makes one wonder if humans have any say in what happens in each other's lives.”

“...Uh-huh.”

The boy then smiled at him again. “But gods love humans all the same. Because humans and gods alike might not realize it, but fate is fickle too, and can rest on even a single decision.”

Robert was too stunned to reply. The boy laughed a little. “You'll have your happy ending,” he finished. “Hold out for it, Robert.” Then he left.

He stood there for a few seconds, before turning in the direction the boy went. “Hey!” he called. “How did you–”

The boy was gone.

“...know my...name...?”

In that moment, Robert remembered something his mother had told him before. That you should be kind to everyone you meet, because gods and angels walk among the living. And Robert remembered wholeheartedly believing that as a small child, because he could see ghosts anyway, so why not an angel or a god?

Why not, indeed?


	5. The New Tenant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jekyll gets a new neighbor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point it'll be pretty obvious who the Grim Reaper is, whoops.

_**2015** _

Jekyll was, simply put, quite bored.

He didn't have much to look forward to, apart from the nightly prowl that Hyde was planning for this night. And even then, those were starting to become boring. Maybe a trip out of London would be nice? He could just open a door somewhere, just escape...

Oh, right. Didn't Rachel tell him that there was going to be a new tenant moving into one of the flats below the penthouse today? That was something new. He had better greet the new neighbor, lest he die from boredom.

“ _You, die from boredom?”_ Hyde asked as he pulled out a mug from his cupboard. _“That's something I never expected from someone like you.”_

“Come on, Hyde, I'm just being nice,” Jekyll said, turning on the electric kettle. “This neighbor is so close to us, I'd like to get to know them.”

“ _And if they end up being a person who throws parties endlessly?”_

“Well, our penthouse is soundproof. And don't you love a good party?”

“ _...Good point. Not saying you're going to enjoy the company of whoever's down there, though.”_

“Do _you_ want to meet them?”

“ _No. That's an old lady thing. You do that.”_

Jekyll rolled his eyes. “Figures.”

* * *

Either way, he was in the elevator now, holding a fresh cup of tea and preparing himself to meet the new neighbor. He prepared a list of topics to talk about, what his first greeting would be like, braced himself for any bad first impressions. The elevator jolted to a stop quickly, and he took a deep breath, before the doors opened, and he stepped outside.

He looked about, and saw the that the first door to the right of the elevator was open. That must be the new tenant's flat, right? So he went over to that door, and knocked.

The person to open the door wider was Rachel, who grinned when she saw him. “Uncle Levi!” she said. “Came to greet the new neighbor?”

“Of course,” Jekyll said. He held up the cup of tea. “Tea's getting cold, too. It's for him. Or her. Them?”

Rachel took the cup from him. “I appreciate you trying to be up to date,” she said. “Your new neighbor's inside, I think she's–” Suddenly, Rachel looked up. “Oh, there she is!”

The clacking of high heels came into the living room. ( _ “Business oriented?” _ Hyde tried.) Then a head of blonde and white hair came in alongside the footsteps – and Jekyll's smile fell from his face.

Oh.

When she came fully into the room, she looked at Jekyll, and paused, her expression turning to one of shock. And then anger. Jekyll's face did the same.

“YOU?!”

It was the Grim Reaper that Jekyll and Hyde ran into every so often. She was always none too pleased to see him, especially now that – she was going to be moving into this flat?!

Rachel held the cup of tea closer to herself. “You-you two know each other?”

“Know each other?!” the Grim Reaper asked. “That's-that's–!”

“That's my uncle, Levi Pidgley,” Rachel said. “He lives in the penthouse upstairs. He came to see you, but I don't think that's going so well.”

“No shit,” the Grim Reaper said. She crossed her arms, and then looked at Jekyll. “ _You_ live in the penthouse?”

“As a matter of fact, miss, it's quite comfortable up there,” Jekyll said. “It was a gift from the father of Miss Pidgley here, and it would have been rude to turn it down.”

The Grim Reaper nodded. “You just had to live in the building I was eyeing...”

“If...if there's a problem...” Rachel tried.

“No, it's fine.” The Grim Reaper waved her hand. “I can deal with a troublemaker such as him.”

Rachel smiled. “That's good to know. You already signed the deed, anyway.”

“She-she signed?!” Jekyll asked.

“Yes.” The Grim Reaper grinned. “I'm officially moved in.”

Jekyll was speechless. His mouth fell open, while the Grim Reaper went on, “So I expect you to be a good neighbor and not bother me from now on.”

“ _Oh, on the contrary, reaper,”_ Hyde said, _“I'm going to be bothering you every chance I get.”_

She frowned. Rachel, meanwhile, extended the cup of tea to her. “Here,” she said. “Uncle Levi brought you this as a sign of, uh, goodwill.”

The Grim Reaper smiled at Rachel, and took the cup from her, before looking Jekyll in the eye and drinking from the cup. Jekyll narrowed his eyes at her.

“Well, miss, either way, let's try to get along,” he said, extending a hand. “But you haven't told me your name yet.”

She made sure to finish the cup of tea, before lowering it, and pointedly putting her free hand in her jacket pocket. “Victoria Forst,” she said. “Nice to be introduced properly to you.”

Jekyll huffed, while the Grim Reaper returned the cup to Rachel, who returned it to him. “If that is all,” she said, “then Miss Pidgley can take care of things from here.”

“If that's how you see it,” Jekyll said, shrugging. Then he looked at Rachel. “Oh, and Rachel, dear? Try not to look into her eyes too often.”

Rachel nodded, but nevertheless looked a bit confused at the ominous instructions. Jekyll nodded at her, and then turned towards the door, before leaving. She watched him leave, and then turned towards the Grim Reaper. She avoided her eyes.

“So, uh...since you're going to be staying here for a long time, should I call you something less formal than Miss Forst?” she asked.

“Oh, that,” the Grim Reaper said. “I prefer you wouldn't call me anything at all.”

“Miss Victoria it is, then.”

* * *

The Grim Reaper eventually found herself sitting alone in her new flat. She had made herself a cup of coffee and changed out of her formal attire, opting instead to wear a sweater, a skirt, and a scarf. She slipped her feet out of her slippers, and sat down on an armchair, before she placed her feet on the ottoman, and helped herself to the coffee.

And then the doorbell rang.

She looked over at the door, a little surprised. Then she calmed herself. Surely it was someone who needed something. Hopefully, not that trickster god. So she got up from her seat and went to answer the door.

Standing outside the doorway were a couple, a man and a woman, the man holding a paper bag. The two of them seemed to be close to her physical age, and now the woman raised a hand in greeting.

“Hello, new neighbor!” she said. “How're you liking the place so far?”

The Grim Reaper looked at the two of them, a little confused. “Uh, it's fine,” she said. “Though the man in the penthouse is a little...”

“Mysterious?” the man asked. “Yes, he is a little strange. Doesn't try to get to know the neighbors after greeting them when they first move in. That number, including us.”

She put her free hand around her cup of coffee. “Strange is a word I would use, yes. But what are you doing here?”

“Oh, we're from the second flat down the hall,” the woman said. “We heard that you were moving in, so we brought you a little gift to celebrate moving in.”

The man adjusted his hold on the paper bag, and then handed it to her. The Grim Reaper stared at it, before taking it, being careful not to touch his hand as she went.

“It's banana bread,” he said. “I thought it was good for a new neighbor. I hope you like it.”

She then looked at him, staring into his eyes. Hazel, a nice color. He looked at her kindly, before his eyebrows creased, just a little.

“Miss?” he asked. “Are you crying?”

“Huh?” she asked. She sniffled, and then wiped at her eyes with her sleeve.

“Oh, poor thing,” the woman said. “Have you not had neighbors greet you on your moving in before?”

“Well, no, but–”

“That's alright,” the woman said. “We'll make sure to check in with you sometimes. It looks as if you're in need of friends.”

“That's nice of you,” the Grim Reaper said. “But I do not need you fussing over me. I will be fine.”

“Well, let's at least introduce ourselves,” the man said, putting a hand on his chest. “My name is William Grye.”

“And my name is Maxine Conklin.” The woman smiled sweetly at her. “It's nice to meet you.”

“Ah,” the Grim Reaper said. “My name is...Victoria Forst.”

“Now that that's settled, we'll come visit every now and then. Or you can visit us!” William said excitedly.

She raised a finger at the two of them. “Are you two married?” she asked.

The two of them showed off the matching rings on their right hands. “It's becoming far more common for a woman to keep her maiden name,” Maxine said.

“I hope we haven't bothered you too much, though,” William said. “That being said, feel free to borrow a cup of sugar, or whatever strikes your fancy.”

Maxine waved at her. “Bye, Victoria. Enjoy your banana bread,” she said.

The Grim Reaper couldn't help but wave back, even if she was a little dazed from the encounter. Once they left, she closed the door with her foot, and then turned around, before walking back to her armchair and her ottoman. She then sighed.

“I don't even like banana bread,” she said to herself, looking down at the paper bag she was holding.

But she knew she would feel terribly guilty if she didn't eat something that those nice people had made for her.

...Why would she feel guilty, again?


	6. A Stolen Wallet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hyde tries to steal a wallet, but ends up having to give it back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, this chapter doesn't do much other than set the stage for the fated meeting.

**1885**

The tea things were set on the table, and Dr. Henry Jekyll looked upon his niece, Elizabeth Lavenza. She toyed with her braid a little, before looking up at him and smiling.

“So, you've come to see me,” she said. “There's your good deed for the day.”

He laughed. “Are you assuming I keep my good deeds on some sort of list?”

“Of course not,” Elizabeth said. “But you haven't come to see me in quite a while. I was beginning to get a little frustrated with you, dear uncle.”

“I was hoping you would say that you missed me...”

She laughed this time. “No, I was frustrated. You always used to check on me when I was growing up. It was as if you were afraid I would grow up rotten, or something.”

“Or something.” Jekyll then straightened up. “I never get tired of your banter, Elizabeth. But I'm here about the news.”

“The news?” she asked. She thought about it for some time, before her expression changed to one of realization. “Oh! That news! That news about me being engaged to be married, correct?”

“That's the one.” Jekyll put his hands together, and smiled politely. “I should congratulate you, Elizabeth. I was always hoping you would end up with a good man.”

“I wish,” Elizabeth said. “I'm arranged to be married, and you never totally know the man when that happens.” She shrugged. “But I've met him. He seems like a good man.”

“How old is he?”

“About my age,” she said. “My parents have business with his parents, so they arranged for us to be married next year, when he finishes college.” She blushed a little. “He's educated...I find that rather nice.”

Jekyll couldn't help smiling as well. He loved it when his niece was happy.

“You should meet him, by the way,” Elizabeth said. “I think you two will get along quite well. He's studying in London!”

“What's so special about that?”

“He's from the continent.” She picked up her cup of tea. “I'll give you his name.”

Jekyll straightened up once more. He was eager to have the name of his niece's fianc é – and if she said they would get along well, then how bad would it be?

* * *

_**2015, February** _

Edward Hyde was, for a lack of better words, not in a good mood.

That Grim Reaper...just what was she thinking, moving into one of the apartments right below the penthouse? Sure, she couldn't have known that he lived in the same building, but she didn't have to be so cold about it.

Then again, that was how reapers were, wasn't it? Just cold about everything, in every sense of the word.

Now he was walking down the street, ready to have one of his nighttime prowls. At least, that was how he liked to call it. And Jekyll was in a sour mood too, because of the Grim Reaper, so he didn't want to object to it.

“I just hope she moves out soon,” Hyde said, pulling his turtleneck up so that the fabric tickled his chin. “I don't think she'll be able to stand living near this trickster god for long.”

“ _She'll move out soon enough,”_ Jekyll told him. _“For now, let's not do anything to try and provoke her further. If we pick a fight, Rachel might take her side instead of ours.”_

“Rachel wouldn't betray her dear Uncle Levi, now would she?”

“ _She would if you were the one to do it. And even if it was me, you know how Rachel thinks we're just her silly uncle.”_

“Rachel owns the property, sure, but her father owns the business. If she does anything to disrupt us, he'll flip. And if she does that, I'll flip too.”

There was a man coming their way, looking at the ground. Hyde slowed down to get a good look at him, and then a mischievous smile crossed his face.

“ _Hyde, what are you thinking?”_

Hyde didn't say anything. He only picked up the pace, and walked towards the man, before bumping into him.

“Ow!” the man exclaimed upon impact.

“Sorry,” Hyde said, before walking away.

The man glanced over his shoulder at him, but then walked away. Once he got far enough, Hyde paused in the light of a store window, and snickered to himself.

“ _Hyde, come on...”_

“You know you wanted to do it, too!” he said, pulling out the man's wallet. “And besides, we needed something to liven up our night. No one should call us a trickster god for nothing.”

* * *

Hyde managed to have a good night for a while, though the man's wallet remained untouched in his coat pocket. (“I'll return it to him untouched when I can, dear doctor,” he had said, “I just think it'll be funny for him to lose his wallet for a while!”) It came to the point where he became a little hungry, so he went into a small restaurant to eat something.

“ _Hyde, look.”_

“What?” Hyde said, while he was reading the menu. “You see something that you like?”

“ _No, Hyde. I saw him for a second, but...isn't that the man you stole the wallet from?”_

He lowered the menu, and looked around. Sure enough, to his right he found the man whom he had stolen the wallet from. He seemed to be sitting with a woman, and they were talking merrily.

“He seems to be enjoying himself, so?” Hyde asked.

“ _He's with a woman. He might be on a date, and he might be expected to pay.”_

“Come off it, Jekyll,” Hyde whispered. “Let her pay for once. Besides, won't it be suspicious if I give him back his wallet right here, right now?”

Jekyll seemed to be quiet for a while. Hyde huffed, and was about to turn back to the menu, before he couldn't help glancing back at the man. His eyebrows creased.

The man reached into his pockets, and did a double take. There it was. He looked in his jacket for his wallet, and found nothing. Hyde watched him for a while, before sighing, and putting down the menu.

“I blame you for this,” he said, sneaking under the table.

“ _You do realize we have a conscience, don't you?”_

“Yeah, yeah.”

* * *

The next thing he knew, Jekyll was crawling out from under the table in too-small clothes, trying to fix his coat around himself so that it wouldn't be obvious that his shirt was putting on some strain. He took a deep breath, and put his hand in his pocket. The wallet was there.

“ _You do know what you're doing, right?”_

“Of course I do,” he said. “Who knows how many wallets I've returned in our lifetime.”

“ _But that's because you wanted to steal the wallets in the first place.”_

“Shh.”

Jekyll began to walk towards the couple, who were beginning to look a little distressed. Clearly, it seemed the woman hadn't brought enough money to pay for their meal. ( _ “The standards of dating nowadays,” _ Hyde commented.) The man was apologizing to the woman when Jekyll reached them – and then he tripped, a calculated act.

“Oof!” he exclaimed as he went down.

The man looked down at him, and got up from his seat. “Are you alright?” he asked, moving to help him.

“No, no, it's fine,” Jekyll said, getting up. He dusted himself off, and then walked away.

“Ah...” the man said, sitting back down. For a moment, his eyes turned downwards, and then they fell on something he didn't expect to see – a wallet.

“Sir!” the man said, calling after Jekyll and holding the wallet up. “You forgot your wallet!”

Jekyll looked at him, before smiling cryptically, and shaking his head.

The man looked a little more confused, and then looked down at the wallet, before his eyes lit up in realization. He looked back up, his mouth falling open; but Jekyll was gone.

A moment later, Hyde crawled out from under his table in well-fitting clothes, and then sat himself down in his table. He  sighed, and picked up his menu again.

“There's your good deed for the day,” Hyde said. “Are you happy?”

“ _Very.”_

Hyde snickered. “Of course you would be.”


	7. That Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jekyll meets the man whom Hyde stole a wallet from.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes a chapter that was pretty late! I'll probably make it up to y'all somehow.

The following days passed without much incident. Jekyll and Hyde were staying out of the Grim Reaper's way, and it seemed she was doing the same for them. And as for their actions in that week; said actions passed by so fast that they were in and out of their shared mind without much fuss. So that was how it was.

After a while, Jekyll decided it was high time he showed up at the real estate business that Rachel's father ran, so he would see how it was doing. Of course, Hyde told him it was doing well and there was no need to fuss, but he liked showing up and treating or tricking the employees, whichever he felt they deserved. So he showed up anyway.

And without warning – there he was.

Jekyll didn't know whether to believe his eyes or not, but he was looking right at the man whom Hyde had stolen a wallet from. Luckily for him, the man didn't seem to notice him, so he had something going for him, at least. He turned away, and then looked at Rachel, whose desk he was sitting beside.

“Um, Rachel?” he asked.

“No, Uncle Levi, you can't go upstairs and talk to my father,” she said, without looking at him. “I'm sure he'd love to see you, but he's busy, and so am I.”

“No, not that,” he said. “There's a certain someone here.”

“Huh?” She looked over a bunch of papers. “Who?”

He reached over and grabbed her head, before turning it in the direction of the man he had seen. “There,” he said. “That man there. Talking to the members of the board. Who is he?”

Rachel squinted for a second, before her eyebrows rose. “Oh, that's Mr. Hastie Robert Lanyon, Junior,” she said. “He's the son of my dad's business partner, Hastie Robert Lanyon, Senior.”

“I've found naming your son after yourself always a little pretentious,” Jekyll said, releasing her head.

“Well, too bad, because you seem like the type to do that,” Rachel said, a little huffy. “Or your brother who visits a lot. Uncle Matthew was his name, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jekyll said, rolling his eyes.

“ _Why does she think I'd be the type of guy to do that?”_ Hyde asked. _“Although, I have to admit, a little boy named Edward Hyde Junior would be nice...”_

Jekyll shook his head, clearing his head of Hyde's thoughts. “I'd prefer it if he didn't see me right now,” he told Rachel. “Can you find me a place to hide, or something?”

Rachel looked up. “Oh. Too late. He's already seen you.”

“Wait, what?”

Jekyll turned and looked. And sure enough, the man was coming towards him, as if drawn by invisible magnets. He quickly looked down, trying not to meet the man's eyes.

“Excuse me,” the man said. “I believe I've met you before?”

“Uh, no you haven't,” Jekyll said, keeping his eyes on the floor.

“You returned my wallet to me?”

“Returned his wallet?” Rachel asked, and the man looked up at her. “What do you mean?”

“This man returned my wallet to me after it was stolen, albeit in the most roundabout way possible,” he said.

“Most roundabout way, huh?” She chuckled a bit. “That's my uncle.”

“Your uncle?” He looked at her.

“Rachel!” Jekyll said.

“Oh, I should introduce you,” she said, despite Jekyll's attempts at protesting. “This is my uncle, Levi Pidgley. Uncle Levi, this is Mr. Hastie Lanyon.”

“ _Robert_ Lanyon,” he corrected, holding out his hand for a handshake. “I prefer to use my middle name. Differentiates me from my father easier.”

“Oh! I see,” Rachel said.

She smiled as Jekyll got up, and then, in an effort to be polite, shook his hand. Lanyon tilted his head a bit. “A bit shy, are you?”

“Oh, not normally,” Jekyll said. “I just prefer to be...humble, that's all.”

“Well, makes sense,” Lanyon said, before releasing his hand. “Though I wonder, how did you find my wallet?”

“E-Er...I found it on the ground. It was a lucky coincidence.”

“A lucky coincidence...?” Lanyon then smiled. “A miracle, one might say.”

“Yes.” Jekyll nodded, eager to keep up the lie. “A miracle.”

Rachel put her hands together. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Mr. Lanyon. I think I should get back to work.”

“Of course.” Lanyon nodded at her. He then looked at Jekyll. “And you too, Mr. Pidgley?”

“Ah, no, I was just leaving,” Jekyll waved a hand.

“Finally,” Rachel joked while sitting down, much to his chagrin.

“Is that so?” Lanyon said. “I was just leaving, too.”

“...Ah.”

“Oh, but there's no need to go with me. I can go on my own, if you'd like.” Lanyon said, waving a hand.

Jekyll looked him over, and then crossed his arms, sighing.

“ _Come on, Jekyll, there's something he wants to ask you,”_ Hyde said.

“There's something you want to ask me, though,” Jekyll eventually said. “I think we can talk about it on the way downstairs.”

He walked past Lanyon, putting his hands in his coat pockets as he went. Lanyon followed after him, and then the two of them headed towards the elevator.

“So, what did you want to ask me?” Jekyll said, pushing the “down” button.

“Well...” Lanyon put a hand to his chin. “This might be a strange question, but if you're the uncle of this company's heiress, and she's twenty-five by now, then...how do you only look my age? Younger, perhaps?”

Jekyll looked at him for a second, and then pretended to have an insulted expression on his face. “I'm a little offended!” he said, with all the drama that he was sure Hyde would use if he were using the body at that moment. “An older man can't look younger than his age?”

As intended, Lanyon looked apologetic. “I didn't mean it that way – I just meant that it was a little strange...”

“Well, it shouldn't be. I have a very specific skincare routine.” Classic lie. Hyde liked to use that one all that time when people thought he looked too young for his (physical) age. The elevator opened, and then Jekyll stepped inside. “Seriously...”

Lanyon stepped inside as well, and pushed the button for the ground floor just before the doors closed. Then the elevator moved downwards, and Lanyon glanced at him once more.

“Well, Mr. Pidgley, I never would have taken you for the vain type,” he said. “But I suppose that's none of my business.”

Jekyll nodded. With that, the two of them were silent for the rest of the elevator ride, and then the doors opened, with Lanyon stepping out first and Jekyll following after him. The two of them walked to the door side by side, and, when they reached the door, turned towards each other.

“So, I'll be seeing you around,” Jekyll said. “Hopefully not too often.”

Lanyon was the one to nod this time. “Yeah, this was...kind of awkward.” He pointed towards the door, and then pushed it open, before walking out. Jekyll watched him walk down the stairs leading to the entrance, and then followed after him.

As he went outside, the smell of smoke then made itself known to him – a car accident? He turned, and saw Lanyon staring at a two-car wreck in front of the building. Jekyll blinked, and then went down the stairs to stand next to him – for there was a very familiar face standing beside the wrecked car.

The Grim Reaper was talking to a spirit standing beside the car, on the same side that Jekyll and Lanyon were standing, and Jekyll knew that she was talking to the dead driver of one of the cars. He swallowed. Death wasn't new to him, but he hadn't seen the Grim Reaper in her element very often. Or at least, this particular Grim Reaper. He knew lots of them roamed the city.

She was beginning to lead the spirit away when she saw him standing there, and looked surprised. Jekyll was about to say something snide – but then he realized she wasn't looking at him.

Slowly, he turned to look at Lanyon, who was looking straight at the Grim Reaper.

“...It's her...” Lanyon murmured.

Before either Jekyll or the Grim Reaper could say anything, however, Lanyon took off in the other direction, running as if his life depended on it. Jekyll stared after him, stunned.

That man...could see the Grim Reaper? Even when she was wearing the hat that made her invisible to the living?

...Strange.

Jekyll turned to look at the Grim Reaper again, but she was gone, and so was the spirit.


	8. Sudden Interest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel and the Grim Reaper wonder why Jekyll has taken a sudden interest in a certain man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geez, I haven't updated this in forever. Even though I have the chapters ready!
> 
> But anyway, enjoy it!

“I don't understand, Uncle Levi,” Rachel said, crossing her arms. “What's with the sudden interest in Mr. Lanyon?”

“I just think he's a very interesting person, that's all,” Jekyll said, while typing something out into a laptop. “You think he's interesting, don't you?”

“Me? Not really,” she said, shrugging. “But I guess the occasional interesting thing comes through from my employees' gossip every now and then.”

“Gossip? About him?” Jekyll asked.

“Most of it's unimportant stuff, like whether he's gay or not,” Rachel said. Then she looked a little more thoughtful. “But a lot of his own employees avoid him, I think.”

“And why's that?”

“They think he can see spirits. Word is he can see the souls of the lost dead, from the newly deceased in the hospital, to those who lingered from the past centuries.” She shuddered. “Their words, not mine.”

“...Ah.”

“What? Did I kill your interest in him?”

“No,” Jekyll said. “I think you've piqued it, in fact.”

“Huh.” Rachel leaned forward. “You into mysterious people such as yourself, huh?”

“Come on, Rachel, it's not like I want to date him,” he said. “I just noticed something unusual about him, that's all.”

“That's what people say when they want to date someone.”

Jekyll sighed in exasperation. Then he looked her in the eye. “Listen, Rachel. I have something to tell you. Since you're of age, I think it's high time that–”

“–I knew you were the god my family's served, and the reason why my family has a good business?” she asked. “Yeah. I know.”

A pause.

“H-huh?”

“Yeah, I knew since I was eight,” Rachel said. “Not only was my dad talking to his own 'brother' as if you were his superior, but also sometimes you got drunk and started conjuring up gold, showing it off to me.”

“...”

“And what's more, you never aged, and you keep talking to yourself, as if you can see ghosts in the room. And once, you even levitated in front of me.”

And Jekyll was levitating right now, five feet off the ground, looking at Rachel with an annoyed look on his face.

“You knew since you were eight...” Jekyll said, “...and you just let me think that you didn't know?”

“I thought you knew that I knew.” Rachel simply raised an eyebrow. “It wasn't exactly a secret in my family, anyway.” She then put a hand on her hip. “But what's the deal with Uncle Matthew, then, if you're a god? Is he still your brother?”

Jekyll raised his eyebrows at her, and then slowly sank back down into his chair. “So you don't know about Uncle Matthew, then?” he said, his tone turning pleasant.

“No,” Rachel said.

“Good.” He turned back to his laptop, and continued to type.

“You – you're not going to tell me?”

“You can figure it out on your own.”

“Uncle Levi! Or whatever your real name is!”

“You can just call me Uncle Levi.”

“Fine.” She raised a finger. “I'll tell you all that I knows about Mr. Lanyon, and in turn, you tell me what the deal is with Uncle Matthew.”

Jekyll paused, and then looked at her. “You should know better than to make deals with a trickster god.”

“I'm not at all concerned,” she said. “God or not, you're still my Uncle Levi who wouldn't dare hurt me.”

Jekyll smirked. “We'll see about that. Now, tell me all that you know about Mr. Lanyon...”

* * *

The doorbell rang out of the blue once again. Still, the Grim Reaper decided to give the person at her door the benefit of the doubt, so she opened it – and frowned when she saw Jekyll standing there, even if he was standing alongside Rachel.

Luckily for her, Rachel was the first to speak. “Don't mind us, Miss Victoria,” she said. “We just need to ask you a few questions, that's all.”

“I hope that's all,” the Grim Reaper said. “I certainly do not appreciate _his_ presence here.”

Jekyll rolled his eyes. “I understand that. But can you let us in anyway?”

She sighed, and then stepped aside, letting the two of them in. Rachel thanked her, and she closed the door behind them. Then she turned towards them, just as Rachel stood in front of her.

“Hey,” Rachel said, “did you know my uncle was a god this whole time?”

“Yes,” the Grim Reaper said bluntly. “Though that isn't a question you should go around asking random people who've had bad experiences with your uncle.”

“Ah,” Rachel said.

“But either way, in whatever form he's in, he doesn't tend to keep it a secret,” the Grim Reaper continued.

Jekyll threw his hands up in frustration. “Really?!”

“That's true,” Rachel agreed, at which Jekyll scoffed. Then she pointed a finger at the Grim Reaper. “But when you say 'whatever form he's in', do you mean that he shapeshifts and pretends to be another person?”

“He does shapeshift, and that other half of his is more at ease about playing tricks on humans than your Uncle Levi,” the Grim Reaper replied. “But not by much. We don't call him a trickster god for nothing. And they are very much the same person.”

Rachel sighed. “So you knew the deal about Uncle Matthew too, huh.”

The Grim Reaper snorted. “Levi and Matthew? Did you read the Bible too thoroughly?”

Jekyll glared at her. “Now isn't the time to discuss my Biblical references,” he said. “I have to ask you a question as well.”

“It's not my fault if I find your niece more amiable company than you,” she said. “But if this question does not concern what I ate today or my hat, then I suppose you can ask it.”

Jekyll sat down in the armchair, like a proper gentleman. Then he asked, “What do you know about a Robert Lanyon?”

“There might be quite a few Robert Lanyons in the world. Are you asking about one I've encountered in my work?”

Rachel looked at her. “In your work?”

“No, I'm talking about a living one.”

“Wait, 'a living one'?”

“If he's among the living, then I'm afraid I can't help you,” the Grim Reaper said.

“Wait, what are you both discussing In front of me right now?” Rachel asked nervously. She looked at the Grim Reaper. “What are _you_ , Miss Victoria?”

The Grim Reaper's eyes turned to Rachel. “Would you look into my eyes, Miss Pidgley?”

“No, no!” Jekyll exclaimed, jumping out of his seat to arrive at Rachel's side. “Don't look into her eyes, Rachel!”

The Grim Reaper folded her arms. “Oh, so you  _do_ care about someone other than yourself!”

“You can't touch someone under my protection, and you know that, reaper!” Jekyll said.

“R-reaper?” Rachel asked. “What?”

“I can, if the gods give me jurisdiction,” the Grim Reaper said, before she looked at Rachel again. “If you must know, girl, then you must be sworn to secrecy.”

“Y-yeah, I swear to secrecy, and all that,” Rachel said quickly, looking away from her.

She pushed up her glasses. “I'm a Grim Reaper,” she told her. “I collect the souls of the dead and bring them to the afterlife.”

“But if you're a grim reaper, you probably shouldn't need, like, a flat,” Rachel said.

“Neither should your uncle, and yet here we are,” the Grim Reaper said. “We resemble what your kind calls 'physical gods'.” She then frowned. “Except your uncle passes more for a god than I do. I'm just an exceptionally powerful soul.”

“...Ah.” Rachel said. She looked up at Jekyll. “Why are you telling me not to look into her eyes?”

“Because if you look straight into her eyes, she can control what you think, feel, and do.”

“That's way too much power for a reaper, isn't it?”

“It helps with the job.” The Grim Reaper then looked at Jekyll. “But my answer still stands. I cannot help you with this Randall Lanyon.”

“ _Robert_ Lanyon,” Jekyll corrected. “And you must have encountered him before. He was that man who saw you at that car wreck the other day.”

Something seemed to click. “You mean that living person who saw me there?” she asked.

“Yes!” Jekyll clapped his hands together. “His name is Robert Lanyon, he can see ghosts, and he recognized you that day.”

The Grim Reaper looked a little thoughtful. Then she huffed, and walked over to a room in the flat. Jekyll and Rachel looked at each other, and then followed after her.

“Lanyon...can see ghosts...” the Grim Reaper muttered to herself as she walked over to a file cabinet in this room, which seemed to serve as a small office. “I think I remember something like that from the past thirty years.” She pulled out a file from the cabinet and looked it over. “Here we are.”

“Grim Reapers have paperwork?” Rachel asked.

“Yes, and it explains why she's so uptight,” Jekyll commented.

She frowned, but turned her eyes back down to the file. “I never reaped the soul of a Robert Lanyon, but I did reap the soul of an Ingrid Lanyon – about this day 27 years ago, in fact,” she said. “When I did so, I encountered her son, who could see me. He was about ten or eleven years old at the time.” She then looked at them. “How old is your Robert Lanyon, by any chance?”

“Thirty-eight,” Rachel replied.

“Then he must be the son I documented,” she said, closing the file. “But I don't understand. Even if a human could see me at work, or any ghosts for that matter, I don't believe you would go out of your way to obtain information about him. What makes him different from other humans?”

Rachel laughed. “He's in  _looooove_ .”

“I am not!” Jekyll exclaimed.

“Lovesickness is always a curse upon immortals,” the Grim Reaper shrugged. “Especially if you fall for a mortal.”

“I told you, I'm not in love with him!” he said. “I just had this funny feeling about him, that's all!”

“Because you're in love!” Rachel teased. “Be honest, Uncle Levi; I could set you two up on a date, and–”

“What is that?” the Grim Reaper interrupted, pointing at Jekyll. “What are you doing?”

Jekyll looked down at himself. The tips of his fingers were beginning to disappear into smoke – then his hands, and then his forearms.

“It's not me,” he said, before disappearing.


	9. The Graveyard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lanyon accidentally summons someone he didn't think he'd be able to summon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter after a while, baby. This should resolve the cliffhanger.

It was the anniversary of Ingrid Lanyon's death, once again.

And once again, Robert Lanyon had let his father do his own thing for his dead mother, while he did his own thing as well. Ever since he had moved out of his father's house, h was under no obligation to join his father this time of year.

...And yet, his father still controlled his life. He was still working in his father's company, his house was provided using his father's money, and he was still coming for the monthly family dinners, and still enduring the questions from his father (and his other nosy relatives) about when he would find a girlfriend.

(Not that he wanted a girlfriend as of the moment, anyway. He had tried dating a woman named Lisa for a while, before they realized she was a lesbian, and then they broke up. They still keep in touch, though, her being that woman he was eating with a few days before. Lisa now has a wonderful French girlfriend named Marie, though seeing how happy they are did make him a little jealous sometimes.)

Still...to be loved would be nice...

Never mind that, though. He had purchased some flowers for his mother's grave, and now he was going to bring them to her at an hour when his father wasn't going to be there. It was better this way, anyway.

* * *

After a while, Lanyon arrived at the graveyard where his mother's remains were kept, holding a big bouquet of assorted flowers. He stared at the gate, and sighed, before making his way inside.

It took a while for him to get there, but he had already memorized the path to his mother's grave. He counted the steps to her grave, and after a good number of them, he finally found it.

He stared at it, and at the epitaph written on it, for some time. Then he took a few more steps forward, and laid his flowers down on the grave amid the other flowers and lit candles that his father had placed there.

“Hi, Mum,” he said, before standing up. “Another year has passed, huh? They pass by so quickly...”

No response, of course. But Lanyon continued to speak anyway.

“I know you would have hoped that I was doing well,” he said, “but I don't know if that's an accurate word to describe me anymore. I feel trapped, Mum. And I can't entirely blame Father...even if he didn't treat me as well as I wanted, I just feel like I'm not strong enough to get out of this situation.”

He sighed, and looked up at the cloudy sky. “Mum, I want out. With all my heart, I want out.”

The sky rumbled. He frowned, and then looked at the grave. “Well...you promised me that you would go to heaven, right? Can you ask God up there to help me get out?”

He paused, before grinning to himself.

“...And maybe a boyfriend would be nice.”

He chuckled softly, before coming closer to the candles. Well, if it was going to rain, he might as well put these out. With that, he blew on the candles, putting them all out. Then he straightened up once more, and sighed.

“...Mr. Lanyon?”

Lanyon started. Then he turned around to see who it was.

To his surprise, it was Jekyll.

“...Huh?” He asked, turning fully towards Jekyll. Then he went on, “You didn't hear whatever I said just now, did you?”

“No.” Jekyll looked around. “I'm – I'm sorry – how did I get here?”

Lanyon raised an eyebrow. “You...walked?”

“No, I didn't, I must have been summoned here somehow...” Jekyll turned away and thought to himself. “But how?”

Lanyon's tone was one of disbelief as he said, “I'm sorry, summoned?”

“You couldn't have done something to bring me here, have you?”

“What? No, I didn't do anything. Mr. Pidgley, you must be confused,” Lanyon said. “Maybe you should go home.”

“...”

“What?”

“Actually, I do have to ask you something, Mr. Lanyon,” Jekyll said.

Lanyon blinked. “What is it?”

“...How long have you been able to see ghosts?”

The two of them stared at each other, before Lanyon took a step back in surprise.

“How – how did you know that I can see ghosts?” he asked.

“It's – well, it's common knowledge,” Jekyll tried.

Lanyon looked at him a second longer, before he frowned. “Oh, so you must have heard that from those gossips in the office,” he said. “I'm not ignorant, you know. And besides, why don't you ask them instead? I'm sure they're full of answers.”

“But–”

“No, no, I'm not obligated to tell you anything,” Lanyon said, beginning to walk away. “If you're going to be nosy about my affairs like everyone else, then you can shove your curiosity up your–”

Suddenly, someone else appeared in front of him, and he yelped, jumping back. This person looked at him with dead eyes – they were a ghost, dressed in clothes from the 18th century.

“Are you having trouble?” Jekyll asked, walking over to him.

Lanyon shook his head, and shielded his eyes from the ghost's gaze. “I don't know if this is an elaborate prank you've set up to make fun of me, but too bad! I'm used to that sort of thing now! Ha!”

“...You're used to being made fun of?” Jekyll asked.

“What of it?”

“Nothing, that's just...kind of sad.”

“I won't fall for your fake sympathy,” Lanyon said.

Jekyll gazed at him for a few seconds, before sighing. “Alright,” he said. “But don't be so rude to the ghost beside you, Mr. Lanyon.”

Lanyon glanced at the ghost again, then turned back to him. “Wait, you can see...”

But Jekyll was gone.

“...Him?”

Puzzling. Lanyon then looked at the ghost, and they looked at him.

“Does...does that man come here often?” he tried.

“Not as often as you,” the ghost replied. “But have a little more respect! Did you even know who you were talking to?”

“Why? Is he important?”

“That was London's resident trickster god, boy! You're lucky you didn't get in trouble with him!”

“...Wait, what?"


End file.
